


Tug Of War

by Cate Shaw (Bluebell84)



Category: Michael Fassbender - Fandom, Tom Hardy - Fandom
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Friendship, Funny, Love Triangle, Movie Stars, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:36:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10079732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebell84/pseuds/Cate%20Shaw
Summary: Tom Hardy and Michael Fassbender; two of Hollywood's top leading men.  Both with their eyes on poor Kimber.Right, "poor" Kimber.  She didn't mean to fall for the both of them, but apparently, some people really can have it all.A photographer at heart, Kimber works in the layout department at Entertainment NOW magazine, hoping to be noticed for her talent and keen eye.  Luckily now she has two subjects vying for her attention.Sadly, there can only be one Coverboy for her heart.  The men fight for it, tugging her at both ends.  Who will win Kimber's devotion and bag her a promotion?





	1. Fuck You Starbucks

**Author's Note:**

> Meant to be silly, not to be taken seriously - in this fictional world, neither Hardy or Fassy are in relationships. More chapters to come.

A gust of wind blew a leaf straight into Jane's face and she spluttered her lips, batting it away with her hand.  I let out a boisterous laugh, feeling like today would be a good day after all since such things generally happened to me and not her.

"I hate New York in the fall," stated my best friend Jane, stuffing her free hand into her jacket pocket, observing her coffee cup.  "Jesus, look at this, would you?"

She shoved the cup in my face as we walked.

"How do you fuck up a basic name like Jane?  J-a-i-n, are you kidding me?"

The question must have been rhetorical because she continued to mutter under her breath.  As we continued to walk, I looked at my own cup.

"Amber," I read out loud and chortled.  "Close, but no cigar."

"Hah!  Well, you win this time, I guess.  Hashtag fuck you Starbucks!"

We touched our cups together, toasting to our love/hate relationship with the popular coffee chain.  I smiled at Jane, grateful for her friendship.  She was more like a sister to me than a friend.  We constantly teased and riled one another up, but always with love.

"Two more months and we'll be sipping coffee on the beach instead of freezing our tits off.  Guh, it can't come soon enough."

"Coffee?  Jane, really?  I was thinking more like Blood Mary's or margaritas, but coffee?"

Jane smirked taking another sip.  She swallowed and nodded her head.  "Well, maybe."

I whipped my head in her direction.  "Maybe?  We're going to the Bahamas for your wedding, Jane.  No 'maybe' about it!  There will be blood-" I raised my fist in the air, "-y Marys!"

Jane just laughed but didn't add the conversation.

"Why are you being so weird, suddenly?"  Then it dawned on me.  "Oh shit, are you pregnant?!"

Jane stopped in her tracks and covered my mouth.  As if her extremely conservative future in-laws were spying.

"I don't know!  I'm a week late but I'm trying not to think about it."

"Well that's what you get for living in sin," I teased her as we continued on our way.

Jane rolled her eyes.  "I'll take a test tonight.  The stress is killing me."

"Need me to come over?"

"Please?"

I wrapped one arm around her as we stopped at the cross walk and hugged her quickly.  I tugged my jacket around my neck, fending off the sudden drop in temperature.  Sipping my coffee patiently waiting for the lights to change, a small crowed had gathered behind us also waiting.  Some patiently, some not so patiently.  

A single woman, completely oblivious to her surroundings walked past Jane and I, stepping off the curb as she scrolled through her phone.

She caught my eye because of her red jacket and her amazing cheekbones.  I stared in awe at how unique her face was, almost envious.  I was a plain Jane, well, no, I shouldn't say that because my best friend, an _actual_ Jane, was anything but plain, but you get the gist.  This girl, gorgeous.  Me, plain.

Chiseled by the gods, her face made me want to sit her down so I could brush highlighter all over those massive cheekbones, just for funsies.  She would be a lot of fun to shoot.

Whoa, that sounds bad, I know.  But don't worry, I'm a photographer.  The starving-artist type, actually.  My place of employment, Entertainment NOW, hired me for their layout team, but I was happy to get my foot in the door.

I was so lost in thought, and apparently, so was my potential make-up victim.  Was she aware she was not on the sidewalk anymore?  Her phone had her complete devotion.  It wasn't until Jane elbowed me in the side that I was pulled out of my daydream of assaulting this gorgeous stranger with make-up.

"Is that who I think it is?" She whispered loudly.

Seriously, did she really not realize she wasn't on the sidewalk?  I turned my eyes in time to see a taxi making a beeline straight towards her.  Being a New Yorker, you knew if a car showed signs of slowing down.  We constantly dodge New York drivers.  If you can dodge a New York driver, you can dodge a ball.  Or something.

This taxi, however, was not slowing down.  I reached out and grabbed the woman by the arm, dropping my coffee in the act to secure my fingers around her.  I yanked her back as quickly as I could, the crowd around us gasping as we both fell backwards.  I fell on my ass, pulling her on top of me.

"Fucking hell, Kimber!"  Jane knelt next to us, the commotion attracting more passersby.  She glared at the passing taxi as the driver punched his fist into the horn.

"Choke and die!" Jane shouted at them as they sped past.

"Good god," the stranger exhaled as she pushed herself to her elbows, still on top of me.  Her eyes were wide open, staring at me in shock.

"Are you okay?  You were almost hit!"  In my state of shock, my heart beat even faster as I realized what Jane was telling me.  I recognized her now.  I couldn't tell you her name but I did know she was an actress.  I had seen her before.

She pushed back, sitting on her knees and I sat up.  Jane gawped, clearly recognizing her now as well.

"I knew it!  Holy shit, are you okay?"  Jane helped her up by the hand carefully.

I held mine up, but apparently Jane had reached her happy helper quota for the day.  I rose up on my own, brushing myself off.  The crowd around us dispersed as the lights changed.  In true New York minute fashion, people passed us, unfazed by now.

"I'm fine, thanks to you," she looked at me and smiled, holding out her hand to shake.

I took it and smiled back.  "You were really into your phone."

"Oh, I know.  It's awful.  I can guarantee I won't be using my phone at crosswalks anymore, though.  Seriously, thank you.  I'm Noomi."

Ah, Noomi.  Still couldn't tell you her last name.

"I'm Kimber," I told her.  "This is Jane."

"Oh my god, Noomi, I am such a huge fan," Jane grabbed Noomi's hand from mine and shook it with much enthusiasm.

I side-eyed my best friend knowing she couldn't tell the difference between the Hemsworth brothers.  There was no way she was a 'huge fan' of Noomi What's-Her-Face.  She caught my expression and rolled her eyes.

"I loved Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, okay?"  She explained to me.  Looking back at Noomi, she made a face.  "You look better with eyebrows."

Noomi's eyes crinkled with her smile.  "Most people do, but that wasn't the one I did, you're thinking of Rooney Mara.  I hate to just dash, but I'm actually in a hurry.  I'm having a party tonight and I'd love if the two of you could come, yeah?"

Jane's jaw dropped.  I reached over and tap the bottom of her chin with my finger and it snapped closed.  

"Please?" Noomi asked, bringing her hands together.  "I mean, it's the least I can.  You did save my life after all."

I stumbled over my words.  "Uh, yeah, of course, that could be fun."

Noomi handed me her phone and I programmed my number in under her contacts before handing it back.

"I'll text you the address later, ladies," she hollered with a wave as she quickly crossed the street, leaving us in a stunned silence.

Jane and I just looked at each other, my left shoe soaked with coffee, I then realized.  

"Well.  That was fun," Jane raised her brows.  

"Noomi... what else is she in?"  I limped as we walked, not wanting to feel the wetness in my shoe.

Jane handed over her coffee which I proceeded to finish off before chucking it into a trash can as we passed.  Pulling out her phone, she Googled the actress.

"Noomi Rapace.  Ah, Swedish."

I nodded, "That explains the slight accent."

"She's in... oh Prometheus!  You saw that, right?"

We'd reached our destination, work, aka hell on earth, and I pulled the door of the building open, letting Jane enter first.

"I think so, it sounds familiar."

"Charlize Theron, yum, Michael Fassbender, double yum... ooh Idris Elba."

We showed the guard our work badges and continued to the elevators.

I pushed the up button.  "Break me off a piece of _that_ Kit Kat bar."

"Think he'll be there?" Jane gasped suddenly, tucking her phone back into her jacket.

Well shit, I hadn't thought of there being other celebrities.  Enter anxiety, stage left.

"Well, if he is, you're going to have to control yourself," I teased her.  "You're about to become Mrs Jake Johnson in a few months."

"But he's on my list, Kimber.  I'm allowed to be fucked senseless by Idris and Jake can't do anything about it."

Oh the list.  I used to have one, but now that I'm single again, it was pointless.  

We rode the elevator up to the sixth floor.  I was glad I had a pair of heels hidden under my desk because I didn't want to work with a soaked shoe all day long.

"Idris would tear you in half," I snickered.

"And I'd go back for seconds.  What's your point?"  Jane beamed before sticking her tongue out at me, playfully.

I winked at her as we went our separate ways on the sixth floor.  Since our boss hates laughter and joy, like schoolchildren we had to be separated.

The day dragged and I found myself constantly checking my phone for a text.  I became a woman obsessed.  What if she forgot?  Or what if she never intended to actually text in the first place?  What a clever ploy to get me to let her go.  Maybe she could read my mind and knew of the plans I had for her stunning facial features.  

Jane checked in from time to time, just as anxious.  "Well?"

"Nada," I frowned, spinning myself around in my chair.  

Jane leaned against the opening of the cubical and sighed.  "Well, just the two of us kind of girls' night then, yeah?  Magic Mike is on Netflix.  We'll go wild."

Just then, my phone chimed.  It caught me off guard and as I raised it within my view, it slipped out of my hands.  I quickly caught it, gripping it tightly.

"Is it her?" Jane crowded me, looking over my shoulder as I unlocked my phone.

Oh _yes_.  Sorry Channing Tatum, but Momma's gotta mingle with real live celebs tonight.

I showed Jane the text from the unknown number and quickly replied with the thumbs up emoji and a thank you.  I saved Noomi's number in my contacts and held my phone close to my heart.  

_My precious._

"Oh thank God," Jane squealed.  "We've gotta slut up!  What are you gonna wear?"

"I'm not slutting up!  You slut up!"

"I will, dammit.  Put the puppies on display for Mr. Split Me in Half Elba."

I chewed my lip after Jane returned to her desk, mentally sorting out my entire wardrobe.  The only thing I owned worthy of a party hosted by an actual celebrity was a black dress I bought three years ago for my aunt's funeral.  Maybe Jane would let me borrow some sexy heels.

I kept checking my phone, convinced I'd been daydreaming, but nope, the address was really there.  

Tonight was going to be awesome and I couldn't wait.


	2. Smack That Ass

Reaching for the zipper in the back, I struggled to tug it up. Apparently I had put on a couple of extra pounds since Aunt Brenda's funeral. Lovely. I left the zipper hanging in the middle, figuring I'd get Jane to complete it for me once she showed up.

My phone, already buried into my silver clutch, began ringing. I dug it out and stared at the screen, grimacing at the name across it. Christopher. My "boss."

"Hello?" I turned on the charm, overdoing the cheerfulness.

"Kimmy, excellent. What's this I hear about you meeting up with Noomi Rapace tonight?"

I _hate_ being called Kimmy. If you're calling me for a favor, you better be sure to never ever call me Kimmy.

"Where'd you hear that?"

"Where else?"

I rolled my eyes and internally cursed Jane. I loved her but I should have known she couldn't keep her big mouth shut. Not that it was a secret, but now Christopher would try to use it to his advantage somehow. I knew he was up for a promotion in a few weeks which I had mixed feelings about. On the one hand, he didn't give credit where credit was due. On the other hand, it'd mean he wouldn't be on our floor anymore.

"Yep. Jane and I are heading to some party she's hosting."

"Are you taking your camera?"

Immediately I spat, "No! Of course not. I was invited as a guest."

"Well, at least be sure to use the camera on your phone. This could mean big things, Kimmy! An inside look!"

"Chris, she doesn't know I work with Entertainment NOW and I think I'm going to keep it that way. If she finds out, I might get kicked out of the party. I don't want to betray her trust."

I could actually _hear_ him roll his eyes at me. 

"She'll never know who the pictures came from, come on. It's not like you guys are best friends."

I sighed and gave in. "I'll see what I can do, okay? But I'm going as a guest. I might not even take my phone."

"Hah! You're funny, Kimmy. Funny. Text me tomorrow and let me know."

He hung up without saying goodbye.

Jane banged on the door of my apartment and I let her in. Her dress was in a dry cleaning bag hung over her shoulder. In her hands she had a plastic bag from the convenient mart down the block and a duffle bag which I knew she had stuffed with high heels.

She pushed past me, tossing her dress to the couch and dropping her duffle bag. "I've been holding my pee since lunch!"

Taking the bag with her to the bathroom, she fumbled as she opened the box for the pregnancy test.

"Have you said anything to Jake yet?" I asked as I watched from the door jamb.

She pulled her jeans down and squatted over the toilet. I turned away to give her some privacy as she opened the flood gates.

"Jesus, that feels so good. No, I haven't said anything to Jake yet. He doesn't even want kids."

"He might later," I shrugged.

"But not _now_ ," she whined. She flushed and I turned back to her.

"Just trying to help. How long do we wait?"

"Three minutes." She washed her hands and dried them on the towel next to me.

"Zip me?" I spun around and she completed the zip before patting me on the ass.

"Trying to get some tonight? Bring condoms."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't think so, Tim," I chuckled in my best Al Borland impression.

Jane winked and chewed her lip, trying hard not to glance at the pee stick sitting on the edge of the sink.

"Come help me pick out shoes," I beckoned her, waiting for her to follow me back into the living room.

Jane was half a shoe size bigger, but I didn't care. I wasn't wearing flats to a party hosted by Noomi Rapace. Paired with my black dress and the black lacy jacket I had planned to wear over it, we decided on the yellow suede pumps. Jane also brought a few clutches and I chose the black Christian Louboutin wristlet with spikes to contrast with the lace. It worked better than my silver one. I felt good. I felt like I could possibly fit right in. Jane gave me a once over and approved, starting with a slow clap, then faster, howling like an animal.

"Okay okay, shush. Go check your baby stick."

Jane froze in place and scrunched her face. "I can't!"

"Want me to?" I started down the hall, the heels clacking loudly on the hardwood flooring. They were a little big and fell off my heels as I walked but whatever. I looked good.

"Well?" Jane startled me, looking over my shoulder.

"One line. Not pregnant."

We both stared at the stick on the sink. I wasn't about to touch it. Jane pouted, then wrapped it up in tissue before dropping it into the bin next to the toilet.

"Wait, wait, wait, are we sad or happy right now because I thought we'd be happy, but, Jane, you look a little sad..."

She shrugged. "Yeah, no I'm happy. It's a good thing. We aren't ready yet. I don't know, I guess I just thought it'd be kind of cool to have a tiny piece of the two of us growing inside me."

I frowned and wrapped my arms around her. The heels made me taller, so to make her laugh, I pushed her head slowly towards my cleavage.

She shoved me away, laughing. "Help me get dressed," she smiled through watery eyes.

•••

Jane draped herself over me in the taxi, doing her best not to wrinkle her dress. I honestly didn't care if mine ended up wrinkled. Hopefully the party would be dark.

The crisp New York air snapped at our cheeks as we stepped out of the taxi and onto the sidewalk in front of our destination.

I gawped at the building, realizing where we were. I'd never been to Crimson before and seeing the massive red door in front of me was pretty incredible. Sometimes Entertainment NOW will write articles for the silly gossip column that Petra was in charge of and more often than not, Crimson would play a part. But seeing it in the flesh, er, what was this building made of, wood? Brick? Whatever, seeing it in person was almost Biblical. 

"Names?" Asked the extra large bouncer standing next to the red velvet ropes. 

His build put Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson's muscles to shame.

Jane and I looked at each other, still in disbelief that this was actually happening. 

"Kimber Vogel and Jane Carter," I said anxiously, bracing for the smack of reality, to be laughed at and cast aside. I pictured Noomi watching in the shadows, ready to jump out and laugh.

The bouncer scanned over the clipboard in his hands before looking back up. "I've a Kimber and a Jane."

"That's us!" Jane screeched! "I've gotta get a picture of this, come here Kimber," Jane yanked me by the elbow as we posed with our backs to the large red door, the bouncer, also in the shot, looking unamused.

"Ick, please don't post that on Facebook," I cringed once we looked at the shot taken.

Jane tucked her phone away as the bouncer opened the door for us. "I wasn't gonna. It's going on Insta." She messed with her phone, picking the most flattering filter. "Hashtag Crimson, hashtag best bitches, hashtag be jealous. That'll do," she beamed.

I groaned as she ran ahead of me in her stripper heels. My left ankle started to give so I paused to give my feet a little pep talk.

"Two hours, tops. Then you'll be free. I promise," I whispered.

I caught up to Jane where she was shrugging out of her brown leather jacket, handing it to the lady behind the counter of the coat room. She looked incredible in her scoop necked and sleeveless gold dress with dangling gold earrings. Being the daughter of a socialite, she always did dress beautifully. Even her pajamas came in sets. I, on the other hand, preferred whatever was clean at the moment.

"Welcome to Crimson," the lady behind the counter smiled, taking my own jacket from me. "Here's your ticket."

We each dropped our numbers into our clutches and clackety-clacked in our heels down the corridor of plush padding along the walls. Music was booming as we went deeper and deeper down the hall. 

Jane scrunched her nose with a smile and pushed the door at the end open. The music engulfed us, swallowing us whole. Immediately Jane started fist pumping, blending in with the crowd. I stayed at her heels, reaching for her hand to hold. The strobe lights were freaking me out. I wobbled, and branched my arms out, steadying myself. 

"Jane," I said, pointlessly. The music was so loud I could feel the vibrations within my veins.

The song suddenly changed, still obnoxious and angry sounding but at least the strobes had ceased. Jane had disappeared and I panicked, spinning around searching for her. 

So. Many. People. 

I recognized some, I think I saw a Victoria's Secret model or maybe the fact that she was basically in a bra and panty set made me think she was a VS angel. Who knows. She had the hip bones you get from hating yourself enough to never enjoy BBQ chips. Or pizza. Or carbs. I'd never have protruding hip bones.

I gave my non-existent hip bones a pat and made my way through the crowd, trying to find an end to the sea of dancers.

I stumbled out of the crowd near the bar, reaching out for a stool. Sweet, sweet stability. I sat my ass down and looked over everyone, hoping to see Jane, but it was useless. She had succumbed to the club life. Visions of her snorting coke on a very public toilet seat in the bathroom danced through my head.

_Nice knowing you, Jane._

Among the mass of party-goers, I definitely recognized Idris Elba. There was no mistaking him. I laughed in spite of myself and pulled my phone out. 

Not-so-conspicuously, I snapped a photo, the flash turning everyone's head toward me.

My eyes widened and I spun around in my seat. Fucking auto-flash! The bartender noticed me and I quickly ordered a drink.

"Something really strong please, I'm going to need it," I shouted.

I peered over my shoulder and Idris was looking right at me. He took a step toward me and I looked away, willing the bartender to hurry.

"If you want a picture, you only need to ask, love," came a silky and smooth deep voice next to my ear over the music. Idris perched himself next to me on the barstool and gave a quick wave to the bartender. "Can I get you a drink?"

Celebrities don't often catch me off guard. I can handle them when I come across them at work, which is rare considering they have no reason to be on the sixth floor. They're just people, after all. No different from you and me.

Aside from the sex statuses and lofty bank accounts. Two things I certainly did not possess.

Idris Elba, however, oh boy. If you saw him in front of you, with that confidence radiating off his insanely immaculate body, you'd lose the ability to form cohesive sentences too.

I pointed toward the bartender as he came back over and placed a small drink before me. "I'm good, thanks."

"Rum and coke, please," Idris told the bartender with his lovely accent. He nodded and left us again.

Now was a good time to test if Jane and I were telepathically linked in any way. 

_Jane, holy shit Jane, please receive me. Come in Jane... come to the bar... your man is next to me and I'm pretty sure he's flirting!_

"I don't think we've ever met before, am I right? I think I'd remember you." He was definitely putting on the moves. I had not prepared for this.

"No, I don't think so. I mean, I'd definitely remember if we did. I'm sorry for the picture, it's just that you're a favorite of mine friend Jane's and she's gone."

"Oh, oh I'm sorry," his eyes softened, his brows dropping.

"Oh no no no, not like that! She's alive. Wow, you are hot and it's severely messing with my head," I laughed nervously. "What I meant was that my friend Jane, who is _not_ dead, is here with me but I've somehow misplaced her."

His eyes lit up and he chuckled, thanking the bartender who had returned with his drink.

"Hopefully she'll turn up eventually. Cheers, love." He clinked his glass to mine.

The burn of vodka down my throat made me cough. I held back, trying hard _not_ to cough that I started choking and coughed harder than I would have if I had just _fucking_ coughed in the first place. 

I'm ready for the earth to open up and take me now. 

Idris pat my back, laughing. Good lord, this gets better and better.

I recovered, despite the red hot cheeks I felt on the sides of my face, and tried to keep him talking, in hopes that Jane would show up.

"Are you here for Noomi?" I asked him.

"Sure am. Aren't you?"

"Yeah, of course, I was invited by her today. I saved her life," I bragged.

"Wow, really?"

I recounted the event, careful not to exaggerate. Idris seemed impressed.

"Wow, that would have been so weird if she died on her birthday," he mused, rubbing his jaw, turning the stool to look out over the crowd.

I had been sipping my drink and almost spilled it over my chin.

 _Birthday?_ Well shit.

"This is a birthday party?" I was horrified. Even though we'd been invited, I felt horribly like an intruder.

"I'm Idris," he smiled and held out a hand.

"I'm Kimber." I took his hand and shook it, noticing how his hand completely covered mine. They'd look lovely wrapped around my neck.

_What?_

"What do you do, Kimber?"

"I work for Entertainment NOW as part of the layout design team, but I do photography on the side."

Idris took another drink, raising his brows. "Oh do you now? I've got an interview with them tomorrow before I head back home. Will you be the photographer?"

I shook my head, nursing my drink. "No, sadly."

He smirked. "That's a bummer. Would have been nice to see you again."

Okay I may have to place Idris on _my_ list. Where the hell are you Jane?

"I'll call my boss and make sure they take good care of you," I winked.

We clinked our glasses together again and Idris raised his brow at someone behind me.

"Ah, there's the birthday girl! Hey baby doll, happy birthday!"

I turned in my seat, happy to see Noomi again, ready to thank her for inviting us. She wore a huge smile and wrapped her arms around Idris before she stepped back and noticed me on the stool next to him.

"Kimber! You came!" She opened her arms to me and I began to climb off the stool but she caught me on the edge and we awkwardly hugged as one asscheek hung onto the edge of the seat.

"Happy Birthday," I told her. "Thank you for the invitation."

"It's the least I could do!" She turned to Idris and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Don't ruin this one, please, Idris. She saved my life today."

"So I've heard," he chuckled.

"Someone saved your life?" A voice came from behind me. 

As I turned to look at the owner of the voice, the strobe lights were turned on again. Everyone looked like they were moving double speed but also annoyingly slow at the same time. A man came into view and Noomi held out an arm toward me, like Vanna White displaying the board on Wheel of Fortune.

"Kimber here did," she said loudly, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I'd like to buy a vowel, Pat, because oh. My. God. I'm pretty sure it was Tom Hardy. 

I recently watched Inception thanks to Jane's obsession with Leo. Tom's character Eames was lovely eye candy, so naturally I hopped on IMDb and found out what else he'd been in. Imagine my surprise when I realized I owned a few DVDs of his films already. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed him before. I spent the weekend watching the DVDs I owned which then turned into watching interviews on YouTube and suddenly I was in a hole. A Hardy Hole. 

I narrowed my eyes, the strobe lighting not allowing my eyes to focus on any details. 

Maybe it wasn't him.

He held out a hand. "Lovely! I'm Tom!"

My hand sought his, my depth perception fucked because of the strobes. While I thought my hand was over his to grab, I snatched nothing but air, my one butt cheek slipping off the edge of the stool. I landed next to him, possibly looking like I launched toward him.

Tom caught me by the elbow with one hand and quickly released me, his eyes darting from my feet to my face.

If I ignored it, maybe they wouldn't give what just happened any thought. I took his hand and shook it, happily, feeling the burn of embarrassment deep within my cheeks.

"Open bar, you guys! I'll come and find you again in a bit Kimber. I see some friends who flew out from Sweden, if you'll excuse me."

"So what's the story?" Tom waved for a drink and then looked at me, his brows furrowed.

"Story? Oh, she was about to be hit by a car and I pulled her out of the way."

"How valiant." He gave me a little smile and then turned to Idris.

Well. Apparently he wasn't impressed. I can't say it didn't hurt, his reaction. I knew enough about him to know he wasn't a bull-shitter, but ow.

Tom and Idris fell into a conversation, sharing laughs as old friends do. I glared at the back of Tom's head.

_I'll be selling your DVDs on eBay in the morning, Mr 'How Valiant'. Hmph._

I snuck away hoping to find a restroom. Where the hell was Jane? I opened my clutch to pull out my phone, wondering if she had tried to call or text. The strobes were still flashing and I wobbled, branching my arms out to steady myself. My arm smacked into the ass of someone dancing and they spun around in surprise.

Laughing, (because what else do you do when the theory of Murphy's Law is being tested on you), I apologized.

"Kimber!" A woman shouted my name over the noise. 

I looked up and saw I had smacked the ass of whoever Jane was dancing with. 

"Jane! Thank god! I lost you!" I grabbed onto her arm to keep steady and looked at the man she'd been dancing with. "I found Idris Elba!" I shouted, still looking ahead. The strobes were annoying as hell. 

The music changed, finally, and the spastic flashing ceased. 

"Oh, hello," I gasped as I saw Michael Fassbender standing in front of us.

"Is Idris here?" He asked loudly, looking around. 

"He's by the bar!" I shouted back.

"Michael, this is my best friend Kimber! She saved Noomi's life!"

His eyes widened and he smiled as he took my hand. "Ah, I heard about that! Well done. Let me get you a drink! Both of you! Yeah?" He cupped my hand with other one, waiting for my answer.

Of course I wasn't going to turn down Michael Fassbender, for fucks sake.


End file.
